Saturday, May 26, 2012

All
along I have been advocating Brett Murray’s right to paint what he wishes. I
was like Tselane Tambo asking the president to get over it, inquire of the
painting’s deeper meaning and get on with running the country. I have been like
Ayanda Mabhulu the irreverent artist who had committed the same act as that of Brett
Murray except that his artwork received no uproar. Ayanda said the response to
this painting only shows how artistically illiterate the leaders are. I too
thought so. Can everybody get beyond the president’s dangly bits in the
painting and look at the full exhibition and concentrate on the cleverness of
it all, I thought. I was convinced and am still convinced that the depiction carries
a much greater meaning than making a mockery of the president as a man. I was
pleading to everyone to look deeper. As a side issue unintended by the artist I
am certain; I thought yes, the ruthless object that has been destroying femininity
in South Africa has finally been named by another man. The president was merely
a representative of the nation’s broader masculine community. The violent
weapon that is most feared by any woman in this country that destroys children
and women daily had finally been hung on the wall of the nation. There it was
and its exposure caused a great uproar. It was named. It was hung. Its power
suddenly dissipated and the fear of rape evaporated.

Had it
been a different figure represented the image would not have represented the
entire nation, yet we know that is not what the artwork is about. Yes, The Spear is social commentary on South
Africa’s current politics and political leaders and the real uproar was that
Jacob Zuma, the country’s president was depicted with his private manhood parts
exposed. Indeed a powerful image, one that offended most of the black country
and the more reverent nation. How could such an act be done to our president?
The ANC called for it to be removed from the Goodman gallery while Blade
Nzimande declared war on the City Press for
refusing to remove it on their website accusing them of double standards. I
thought Nzimande was being extreme for calling the painting racist. I thought
that was uncalled for and it was a refusal to understand what the exhibition
was about because it is about them. Nzimande further said the painting was an
insult to all black people, this was a statement that infuriated me because I
felt that he was highly irresponsible for inciting more racial anger in the
country. I wanted Nzimande to control himself because he was simply upset that
his demands were not met and now this was his retaliation, I concluded.

I watched the president deliver a speech at
the University of Forte in honour of Pixely Seme the great ANC icon, the
originator of I am an African. He
began his speech by singing a song I hate, a song that was sung during the
struggle, a song I regard as one of gross self-pity. A song I could understand
why it would have been sung none-the-less. The president’s face was not the
jubilant face we have come to know since the fall of Julius. His face was
somber and appeared to have more frikkles than usual. He sang with a lovely
voice, and it was good to hear the president’s voice sing even though the song
was “Senzeni na, senzeni na” (what have
we done, what have we done). It is a lament that was sung in apartheid
South Africa that said “our only sin is our blackness”. This I wondered if he
sang because of Brett Murray’s depiction of him as he made reference to how
Africans had been portrayed historically in a negative light and in this case
Brett had done so even though he never spelt it out. I looked at the president and felt that I did
not want to pity my president. I wanted to admire him; I wanted to be inspired
by him.

I
spoke with my mother about these matters and my irritation at everyone who calls
the artwork racist, especially Nzimande. My mother then recounted the times in
history when black masculinity had been humiliated. She mentioned the humiliation
suffered by Saartjie Baartman under the hand of whites. She told me of the many
migrant labours who would be stripped off their clothing and dipped in water
that would rid them of the germs they must have carried because they were black
before they would be allowed to work. She told me how the black man would
all strip naked and stand in line while a white female inspected them. She told
me that Brett Murray’s painting brings back all those memories. Jacob Zuma in
his speech said: “They want us to forget”. Those were very weighty words. What
he was saying was; they, the whites, want
us black people to forget everything about the past while they replicate the
past only to remind us of what they want us to forget. Zuma did not
elaborate as everyone knew what he meant.

Here
is a man like Jacob Zuma who is the president of the Republic of South Africa
despite all his weaknesses is passionate about reconciliation perhaps even more
so than the former president Mbeki. While I am grateful that Murray showed the
power of art and that he had us talking about it, is it too much to ask for a
positive representation of the country? My mother concluded and said that in
her opinion though we are a free nation, whites should tread with greater
sensitivity and should perhaps be the last to criticise the current government
harshly, out of repentance. We are all free but we must heal one another’s wounds
first. I concluded that Brett Murray must burn his painting if he wants to show remorse for the pain he has caused. The City Press and the Goodman Gallery need to also acknowledge that this has caused pain. Looking back at the SAMA awards, all I can remember is how beautiful the
rainbow nation looked. It was beautiful to watch musicians from different cultural back grounds and across the colour line made melodies together. They celebrated diversity. They celebrated the streets we all come from. If we listen to the music coming out of our nation we
will know that we are reconciling and that we are healing one another’s wounds.

Wednesday, May 2, 2012

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